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As if in response to my dishonesty, a karma-induced gust of wind whips through the air and tugs at me. My hair whips around me angrily. I curse and hold onto the rock wall for dear life, my heart hammering in my chest. Great, I’m going to die for lying about checking out Jax. I never thought this was how I’d meet my end.
Chapter Twelve
After one more strong gust, the wind finally dies down to a breeze, and I sigh in relief.
“Malia! Are you okay?” Jaxon calls to me. “Hang on, I’m climbing down.”
“I’m all right,” I manage. “I just—” Sharp pain explodes in my skull when I move my head. My hair is caught on something. I slowly tilt my head to try to see where it’s stuck, but it only causes more pain to erupt. “Ouch, ouch, ouch.” This is not good. I’m stuck.
“I’m almost there,” Jax says.
And I’m not going to argue. I can’t move at all without risking ripping my hair out from the root. “Hurry,” I urge.
I hear him scramble down the rock until he’s right next to me. “Hang on a minute. I just need to anchor us so I can use my hands, and you can rest yours.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say dryly.
A moment later he’s leaning over me and examining the back of my head. “I told you to tie your hair back.”
“I did.”
He raises his brows at me as if to say, Really?
“Sort of,” I admit. “It came loose, okay. How bad is it?”
He continues examining the situation, tugging here and there. I suck in a sharp breath when he pulls too hard.
“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know how you managed to get it so tangled with the line.”
“Well, when I commit to something and all that…”
He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a folded knife.
“Oh no.” I try to back away, which just sends another sharp pain shooting through my head.
He gives me an exasperated look. “Malia, I have to get you unstuck.”
“Then take your time and untangle my hair. Don’t you dare cut it.”
Jax hesitates, the knife gripped in his hand. “This will take forever to get out.”
I do my best to shield the knot with my hand. “Time well spent. My hair is very important to me. I have it insured.”
“Then you’ll be compensated,” he says, trying but failing to hide his smile.
“This is not funny,” I say.
He chuckles. “It kind of is.”
“I hate you so much right now.” I give him another glare that I know is particularly menacing. It’s the one that helped win me an Emmy.
“I’ll only cut what I absolutely have to.”
“You cut my hair, Jax, and I cut you,” I say with deathly calm, smiling a little. “The choice is yours.”
He sighs but re-pockets the knife. “Fine. This may take a while.”
He sets to the painstaking task of untangling my hair from the rope. Every time I wince, he apologizes.
